


Trap

by spinsters_grave



Series: Voltron Angst Week 2k17 [4]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Canon-Typical Injury, Gen, Voltron Angst Week 2k17, mild panic attacks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-20
Updated: 2017-04-20
Packaged: 2018-10-21 10:00:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,272
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10682988
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spinsters_grave/pseuds/spinsters_grave
Summary: Alt title: Hell or High WaterYou don’t consider the amount of pain and panic an animal must go through when they’re caught in a leghold trap until you’re in one yourself.





	Trap

Huh. Should've seen that one coming.

 

Useful note for the future: aliens have bear trap technology. This particular trap didn't have any special lasers or anything. Almost disappointing for alien technology. It looked like a simple weight and lever, though there might have been something more sophisticated hidden in the simple exterior.

 

Hunk almost knelt down for a closer look before he remembered himself.

 

Lance was about to brush away what looked like an alien palm frond when Hunk called his name. Hunk thought his voice sounded a little faint and tight, but that was rather fitting for the situation.

 

Lance turned around to see Hunk's leg in a bear trap.

 

Technically, they were called leghold traps. (Suitable.) This one was straight out of the early 1700s, when settlers up in the Hudson Valley were still trading furs to survive. Hunk didn’t want to think about some alien hunter-settler selling his skin as a comfort product.

 

Lance stood there for a second, the blood draining from his face. Hunk was forcefully reminded of the time he watched a champagne glass fog up, the subtle changes not noticeable unless compared to a glass freshly poured.

 

"Hey," Hunk said. "It's fine. I'll be okay."

 

Lance's eyes started to fill with tears. He dropped his bayard, which turned back into its dormant form before it hit the ground.

 

Hunk didn't want to see his friend overcome like this. "Look at me," Hunk said. Lance's eyes didn't tear away from his leg. "My face, Lance."

 

Lance's eyes snapped up to meet his, and his chin trembled. "Hunk," he whispered. Scared.

 

Hunk put his hands up in a placating gesture. He thought about the time when he was back-staging for one play or another. The director had a bit of time telling one girl how to hold her hands at the right angle so as to not seem to ward off the other character. Or something. He tried to remember what the director had said and how to apply it.

 

"Don't freak out," Hunk said, his voice low. There were so many variables to keep track of to make sure no one panicked. "It won't help if you freak out."

 

Lance took a tentative step towards Hunk, and Hunk knew he hadn't heard a word he just said. When that foot hit the forest floor, Lance broke into a flat-out sprint to try to barrel into Hunk. Hunk took a quick side-step and yelled in agony as the bear trap _twisted_ in his leg.

 

Lance clapped his hands over his mouth. "Oh god," he mumbled. "God, oh god, oh god. I’m so, so sorry."

 

“It’s okay,” Hunk panted. He sat down heavily and extended his leg in front of him. The trap was attached to a chain embedded in the ground, allowing him some leeway. It still hurt, but it was fading quickly enough. He could control the pain.

 

Hunk knew his leg was coming off. The trap cut straight through the middle of his calf, all the way to the bone. But that was okay. Hunk had never felt a very deep connection to his left leg anyways.

 

"Lance, please. Take my hand," Hunk asked. He held his hand out in front of him, meeting Lance with his own steady gaze and waiting for Lance to calm down.

 

Lance kept one hand over his mouth, looking everywhere but at Hunk's leg. His head whipped around, but he did take Hunk's hand. Hunk led him down to sit in front of him.

 

"Deep breaths. You'll be okay."

 

Lance took a deep breath and took his hand off of his mouth, finally. "I'll be okay? What about you? Are you going to be okay?"

 

Hunk placed a small smile on his face. "Yup." It was a only little white lie, and it seemed to comfort Lance, so Hunk didn't feel bad.

 

Lance breathed again. "Bro, how are you so calm? It's _your_ leg in a trap. I'd be freaking out."

 

"I guess you're worried enough for the both of us." Hunk sighed and leaned back on his free hand. He could lay down if he wanted, but he didn't want to lose his view of the area around him. They were still on an alien planet. There were bundles of unknown quantities here.

 

His leg could get infected. For the first time since he felt the metal slice clean through and catch, a thread of doubt and panic weaved through Hunk's mind.

 

Lance's hand started to shake. Not the one Hunk was still holding, though Hunk knew where this was going and gently let go. It was a little difficult, since Lance's grip was tight.

 

Lance bounded up. Hunk doubted he really knew what was going on. Hunk doubted he himself knew what was really going on.

 

Lance began to pace and flapping his hands around. "Bro," he began, "bro."

 

Lance's hands rotated too fast around his wrists. Hunk winced at the sound of bones popping around in the joints. He wanted to put his own hands over Lance's again, but he knew this was something Lance had to do.

 

"Bro," Lance said. "Your _leg_ . It's in a _bear trap._ That's—that's—" Lance took a deep breath. He was working himself into a panic again, but there was nothing Hunk could do about it except watch.

 

"Your _leg._ You're going to have to get a prosthetic, like Shiro—oh god, what if the Castle doesn't come? What if they're too far out? What if—" Lance turned towards his helmet, where he had abandoned it because it was too hot.

 

He scrambled towards it. He checked the comms system, and frantically sent a message to Allura and Shiro that they needed an extraction, "like, _now."_

 

"And prepare a healing pod," Lance said as an afterthought. He discarded the helmet and ran back to kneel at Hunk's side.

 

"Bro," Hunk said. "I'll be okay."

 

Lance sniffed. "Don't _say_ that. Stop _saying_ that."

 

Hunk narrowed his eyes in confusion. "Why not?"

 

Lance made a grab for Hunk's hand and held it close to his stomach. "Because you're _not_ okay, you might _die_ out here, and then where will I be? I'll be Hunk-less. Because the big, dumb genius couldn't be honest with me, or himself about how he felt."

 

They were both quiet for a moment. Hunk couldn't find any words to say. He hadn't known that he was minimizing his injury. He thought he was calming Lance down. Like he was supposed to. Like he wanted to.

 

He said as much, and Lance wiped furiously at his eyes. "Yeah. Okay," he said. "I know. I know it's because my emotions get the best of me. I just—" He gulped, and wiped his eyes again.

 

"I don't want you to die," Lance whispered.

 

"I promise I won't," Hunk said.

 

"Your leg is caught in a _bear trap,"_ Lance pointed out. "It'll be a close call, at least." He leaned against Hunk's side and stretched his own legs out to line up against Hunk's.

 

"Yeah," Hunk said, because he couldn't say anything else.

 

They stayed like that for a while, hands clasped and legs stretched out in front of them. Hunk took in the sight of his left leg, his foot, and thought about how easily fallible they were.

 

Lance nudged him. "Bro," he whispered, "I think the Castle's coming. You see the engines?"

 

Hunk looked up to where Lance was pointing. He saw the stars, and he supposed one was getting closer. Funnily enough, he couldn't bring himself to care.

 

"Yeah," Hunk said, and rubbed his thigh. "Just in time."

 

 

END

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! I think that for this collection, this fic marks a change in quality for the better. I'm excited to post the rest!
> 
> Read it on Tumblr here: https://reaadmydumbfanfiction.tumblr.com/post/159798095928/trap 
> 
> Comments and kudos are appreciated!


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